


Go For a Ride

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Motorcycles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Aziraphale is uncertain when Crowley picks him up on a motorcycle.





	Go For a Ride

Aziraphale looked dubiously at Crowley as he pulled up in front of the shop. “Where is the car?”

Crowley smirked and revved the engine of the motorcycle. “Resting comfortably. Decided to give this a spin.”

Aziraphale took a step towards him and stopped again. Crowley picked up a helmet and offered it to him.

Taking a fortifying breath, Aziraphale accepted it, strapped it on, then threw a leg over the back of the bike. “A bit like a horse, is it?” he asked.

“Sort of,” said Crowley. “Less bitey. Hold on to me.”

Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s waist and did not yelp quietly as Crowley took off into traffic. It was bad enough in the Bentley with several tons of metal around them, it was something else to have nothing but the wind between himself and inconvenient discorporation.

Then again, there was _something_ about Crowley in that leather jacket. Almost certainly one of the better fashions he’d seen him in.

Angels did _not_ blush.

Crowley accelerated, making Aziraphale duck his head against his shoulder and hold on tighter as he wove through cars at his usual unreasonable speed.

“Almost there, angel,” murmured Crowley reassuringly.

He pulled to the kerb and parked. Aziraphale carefully extricated himself, noticing the scent of leather as he sat back. Crowley turned and took the helmet from him, smiling as Aziraphale ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his bowtie.

Crowley led the way into the park. The sun was setting, but he hardly needed light to find his way to the hidden corner they’d been making use of for years. Centuries, really. The trees had grown tall, shading the space and keeping it from prying eyes. Today flowers bloomed on the bushes, lending fragrance to the spring air. He pulled a blanket from an inside pocket and spread it on the grass, taking a seat and smiling up at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale sat next to him, breathing in the scent of the flowers, of the leather jacket, of Crowley. “Lovely,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Crowley. Aziraphale didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Crowley was looking at him, not anything around them.

Blindly, Aziraphale reached out and took Crowley’s hand.

Crowley startled. When Aziraphale opened his eyes Crowley was staring at their hands together like, well, like a snake about to bite him.

“Aziraphale?” he said, six thousand years of questions in his tone.

Smiling gently, moving slowly, carefully, Aziraphale leaned over and kissed Crowley. Hopefully, with six thousand years of answers in it.

Crowley murmured a little “Oh.” Then his hand reached up and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek.

Aziraphale hummed into his mouth. There was so much Love radiating in the moment it seemed like birds should start singing despite the hour.

Crowley broke the kiss and leaned his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I would have worn the leather jacket ages ago if that’s all it took,” he muttered.

Aziraphale smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Honestly it didn’t matter to me if you were in robes, a toga, or anything else.”

Crowley relaxed and looked up at his face. He put an arm around Aziraphale and cuddled the angel against his chest. Aziraphale sighed happily and got comfortable. Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair.

It had been a long and sometimes bumpy ride, but now they were just where they belonged.

Somewhere nearby a bird did sing. Maybe even that wayward nightingale.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and twitter at merindab


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